


Hotter than a jet stream burning up

by smell_the_roses



Series: Useless Lesbians [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, F/F, Face-Sitting, Grinding, Hate to Love, Hint of Exhibitionism, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, lots of grinding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smell_the_roses/pseuds/smell_the_roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A distressed wave of a hand is her response, so Louis tentatively crawls across the mattress to lay right next to the girl who may or may not hate her but is most definitely terrified of fake penises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hotter than a jet stream burning up

**Author's Note:**

> Long overdue strap-on fic I was promising you guys. To be fair, I had most of this written. I just had to write in the smut. How did it turn into an 8k monster worshiping Louis fic? Idk but enjoy !
> 
> Title from Fireproof

Liam Payne pulls her into a firm cuddle as soon as she opens the door. Louis Tomlinson giggles against her neck, her arms awkwardly squished between the two of them, and her nose up against her childhood best friend’s thick shoulder blade. She smells sweet like vanillas and oranges so Louis closes her eyes and takes it in for a while before struggling in the hold until Liam releases her. As much as she complains, she really does miss Liam’s full-bodied, chest to chest, bear hugs that lift Louis’s feet into the air whilst, simultaneously, causing her lungs to breath out most of her air. As soon as her vans touch ground, Liam’s voice breaks the short silence, filling Louis’s ear with a soothing alto laughter. That’s what Louis has missed the most.

The flat is neat with only a few scattered piles of clutter. One of which is an assortment of shoes at the end of the sofa across from the threshold. Golden, sparkly, rose, and leather coated boots are at the top of the pile and a few pairs of ripped up converse are at the bottom. Louis assumes they are Harry Styles’s because Liam collects minimalist styles of converse trainers and cleans each pair meticulously after she wears them. Louis goes there first and toes off her favoured black vans. The size of her shoes differ enough with the boots already in the pile that Louis confirms that they are, in fact, Harry’s shoes. The girl has been blessed with some massive feet.

Liam is in the kitchen drinking a cuppa and watching Louis with a small, content smile. Her view is unblocked due to the fact that the entirety of the flat is split into four rooms: the toilet, the bedrooms, and everything else. Louis claps her hands together and throws a wink at Liam because she can.

She opens with, “How is uni?” and listens for the answer as she tiptoes around the front room taking note as to the change of details. There’s a floral rug in the center. That wasn’t there last month.

“Alright. Better now that I’ve finished that rubbish maths course. Did you know there are such things as imaginary numbers?” Louis goes to answer the clearly rhetorical question but Liam continues, “No matter. Enough about me. Why do you look like you’re trying to pull?”

A tug at her stomach and Louis’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Still, she keeps her face neutral and walks more into the kitchen area of the flat. Facing Liam, she throws back a, “What do you mean?” keeping her voice level.

Liam chuckles. “Leave it, Lou. I was there when you bought that crop top,” she says, her voice suggestive.

Louis shrugs in response. The powdered blue top moves with her shoulders, revealing more of her toned midriff. She’s proud of her belly and hint of abs. Running around after toddlers helps. And all the footie she’s been playing with her friends in London. Still, Liam sighs in exasperation and Louis keeps her smile to herself.

“Do you have no shame?” her best mate teases.

She doesn’t bother giving a response because she really doesn’t have shame. Not this month. She’s worn her shortest skirt, layered on eyeliner and eye shadow, and fixed her fringe to settle softly against her forehead. However, Liam is wrong. Her outfit isn’t to pull but to catch the attention of one particular wavy haired brunette with sparkly, green eyes and a penchant for ignoring Louis when she does her monthly visit. And it is not as if Louis hasn’t tried getting Harry’s attention but every time she tries to chat the girl is off cuddling with Liam or snorting at whatever Niall Horan has said.  Louis is tired of being ignored.

“How much longer does Niall have in her class?” Louis asks, reminding herself of why she is here. To catch up with Liam, charm her friends, and get the homesick ache in her chest filled until the next time she has the opportunity to venture to Manchester.

Liam chugs the last of her cuppa and then answers. “We need to fetch her soon.”

Humming, Louis nods and takes in the haphazard array of candles on the kitchen counter. Each of which has been burnt to a different size. The warm colour of a tan candle seems to be the most worn down of the bunch.

She approaches the next question very lightly. “Were we still planning on playing Mario Kart?” she keeps the tone innocent, eyes still fixed on what she has discovered is the cinnamon sugar scented candle. When Liam doesn’t give a response, she continues, “Maybe we should invite Harry. You know, to keep the number even.”

When she turns around it is to Liam’s eyes narrowing and regarding her suspiciously. “What are you―”

“―I’ll ask her,” she interrupts and walks briskly into the darkened, narrow hallway with three closed doors. She stops in front of the middle door and waits for Liam’s heavy steps to follow.

“Harry?” Liam calls through the door, eyes locked firmly on Louis as though she might run at any given chance. A groan answers. Liam and Louis exchange amused looks. “Are you decent?” Liam presses, smile obvious in her voice. Another, much longer groan and Liam is pushing the door open, revealing a stuffy room that smells heavily of cinnamon.

The room is barely more cluttery than the rest of the flat, albeit, the clutter is obviously an organised chaos. A mess of shirts and trousers at the root of her closet, books and binders at the edge of her bed, and a box of makeup and jewelry scattered next to her wardrobe. Right in the center of it all, laying on her stomach, is Harry. Louis blinks at her on the ground and checks her bed to make sense of what she is seeing. The purple duvet is a jumbled mess but her bed seems empty and perfectly comfortable enough.

“You call this decent?” Liam voices and Louis glances back only to look away again quickly, face burning against her will.

The only thing Harry has on is a pair of grey boxer-brief shorts that cling right up against her thighs and arse.

“I’m decent,” Harry argues gruffly and Louis sees her reaching for a shirt from the corner of her eye.

Liam laughs off her reply and prods her gently with the toe of shoe against her thigh. “Louis and I are going to grab Niall from campus so the three of us can play Mario Kart. You in?”

At the mention of Louis’s name, Harry flips onto her back and covers her chest with the loose shirt. She regards Louis briefly before letting her head fall back on the ground.

“I need a shower,” she voices after a moment of silence.

“You do,” Liam agrees, dodging the kick she receives with a honking laugh. “C’mon Lou, let’s leave sleeping beauty to herself for a bit.”

Louis is pulled away by Liam’s grip on her upper arm and the two girls slam the door behind themselves. A rustling can be heard in Harry’s room as Louis leads the way down the hall and to the front door, pausing to grab her pair of shoes from the pile.

“You could have mentioned it,” Liam says rather unnecessarily while she waits for Louis to pull her vans on.

Louis plays innocent. “Mentioned what?” The shoe’s flap has been jammed up closer to her toes and she’s fighting to pull it back out.

Liam laughs.

***

The trip to campus is brief and Niall is waiting for them on the edge of a crosswalk when they pull up in Louis’s car. Let it be known that Liam doesn’t hesitate to stab her friends in the back because as soon as they’re within shouting distance, she is fiercely rolling down her window and shouting into the busy roads.

“Niall! Louis fancies Harry!”

Louis winces and focuses on parking in the only small space available next to where Niall is scrolling through her mobile. She doesn’t even look up from her phone to crawl into the backseat of the car and respond, “Yeah.”

Liam flounders while Niall slams the door shut and slaps a kiss on Louis’s cheek.

“How did you know?” Liam whines and pouts at their mutual friend while Louis checks and double checks the traffic.

Niall smiles widely, showing off all her teeth. “She wore the black mesh shirt last month. I saw more bra than actual shirt. Love this outfit by the way, Lou. Want to borrow some lipstick?”

Louis accepts the lipstick and coats her lips in a rich pink colour before checking traffic a third time and pulling back into the road. Liam is loudly and, Louis assumes, visibly upset by the news.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” she accuses, narrowing her eyes between the both of them.

Louis allows herself to shoot Liam an unimpressed glance before keeping her vision focused on traffic ahead. “I didn’t tell anyone. Niall figured it out by herself just like you did.”

Liam hums, finally accepting the dismissal. She turns to Niall and starts up a conversation about some Sociology course both of them are taking. Louis zones them out easily, feeling a familiar tinkling of guilt in her stomach that usually arises when she comes to Manchester.

Part of her always wonders if she should have gone to uni with Liam instead of taking the first job presented to her in London. It has always been a dream of her to live in a big city. Something big enough that she doesn’t have to worry about seeing the same face twice on the Underground. A place where she can be out and proud without much worry. She easily found that and more in London and the feeling in her stomach has nothing to do with loneliness. She has never been particularly lonely but there is a difference between her group of mates she formed under pressure and the one mate she has had her entire life plus Niall who she got along with at the start.

"I call Mario!" Liam presently yells loudly into the car, pulling Louis from her own, selfish thoughts. Louis rolls her eyes and parks her car as close to the bricked flat complex as possible. The three of them jot up two sets of stairs until they reach Liam's floor and walk to the end of it all while Niall and Liam fight quite aggressively over their favoured Mario Kart characters.

The moment Louis steps across the threshold, her senses are attacked by warm, humid breezes and smells of apples and gingers. She feels like she was transported back to her last Christmas with Grandma Tomlinson before she passed and, really, she hasn’t felt this many emotions since then. The flat, itself, has been cleaned up more since Louis last saw it and in the kitchen, Harry is bent over lighting up a creamy white candle. Louis vaguely recalls that it might be a French Vanilla but that is the last thing on her mind because. God help her. Harry is wearing a pair of tight, tight black trousers and a flowy flamingo printed blouse. She stands and turns around with a massive smile on her face and Louis’s chest aches because the fabric of her shirt looks silky smooth and it is very much see through. Harry isn’t wearing a bra.

“Alright?” Niall cheekily asks, slapping Louis on the back.

At the same time, Liam asks Harry. “So you’re in?”

Harry reaches up, pulling her damp hair up, twisting the lengthy tendrils into a bun. Her perky breasts bounce up with her a bit and Louis is transfixed by the scene. A slap to her arse from Liam surprises Louis and she jumps a foot in the air.

“Fine,” she grumbles to Niall, ignoring the knowing smirk and turning away from all of them. She sets up the console, expertly channeling the game onto the screen. It takes a moment, but she chooses her character (Mario to spite both Niall and Liam at the same time) and turns to see Liam and Niall wrestling over their controllers while Harry watches on fondly.

She doesn’t think about it and panics the second after she’s already thrown the fourth controller across the room to Harry. If she wasn’t buggered, she would’ve at least given the poor girl a warning. Nope, Louis is a fuck up and the controller hits Harry squarely in her left breast. All feelings she formerly held down in herself flood her and shame replaces them. It tickles up her neck and colours her cheeks.

“Ow,” Harry comments, hand groping her breast and confusion furrowing her eyebrows.

Louis pretends she didn’t see and flees to the sofa. Eventually the three others make their way over, choosing characters and settling. Harry is the slowest and is left with a gaping space between Liam and Louis which Louis is disgusted over. She feels overdressed in her skirt next to Harry’s casual trousers.

A rumbling, rough voice teases kindly in her ear. “I wanted Mario.”

And Louis is prepared to die. She contains the shivers she feels up her spine and nudges Harry’s knee with her own in a playful manner. “Should’ve have said something sooner,” she throws back hoping that it comes across as cute and witty. A slight breeze flows up her skirt with the movement of her legs and Louis quickly crosses them to prevent more of that. She may have decided to opt out of undergarments this morning when she ran out of clean ones. Most of her life has been spent going without knickers but it feels more intense this time around. Probably because she has a cute girl pouting quite aggressively at her.

And is this the first time they’ve ever actually interacted? Yes.

“C’mon Lou,” Harry prods and Louis can’t help but look up at her name to witness the detrimental wobble of Harry’s bottom lip. “Please?” she adds as if Louis wasn’t already smitten. But she is and she’s shoving her controller into Harry’s hands, picking Yoshi with the one Harry originally had. Niall coughs something that sounds like “pathetic” that Louis dutifully ignores and Liam picks the Star Cup courses for them to race.

The first course is Sunshine Airport and Liam gets the burst of extra momentum at the start that causes Louis to grit her teeth. To be quite honest, she is absolutely terrible at this game. When she plays with her sisters at home she has no real reason to win because if she does she has four little sad faces to guilt her into an oblivion. She takes the first turn wide and crashes into the side, watching as Princess Peach and Toad pass her until she’s in fifth place. The cheery on top of the dent to her self-esteem is that Harry is politely but quite obviously moving further and further away from her and closer to Liam. Does she smell? Can Harry feel the stubble on her legs? She can never get them completely smooth. Maybe Harry is just repelled by terrible Mario Kart players.

The mystery is never solved because before they can start the next course, Dolphin Shaols, Harry gets up and skips over in the general direction of the kitchen so Louis does the decent thing and crowds herself against the end of the sofa so the girl can come back to plenty of space. When Harry returns, she sits even closer to Liam. A whole person could sit in the space they’ve left.

Louis does better on this course and actually gets third place, beating Niall only because she was hit by the blue shell. So she feels a little bit better over herself when they start Electrodome.

“Why aren’t you drifting?” Harry asks when Louis crashes into another wall on a turn.

Louis waits for Liam’s cheers and Niall’s grumbled, ‘fecking banana peel’ to stop before asking, “What does that mean?”

Harry slouches forward and mutters a curse. Louis glances down at her side of the screen and sees a tiny bomb exploding on Mario. She sympathises for a second before getting back to her own side of the screen.

“The right trigger button? Press it when you turn,” she explains and Louis is confused.

“What?”

Harry doesn’t have a chance to explain further because seconds later Niall wins the race and Louis comes in dead last. Before Louis knows it, she has a mouth full of Harry’s right arm because the girl has flung herself across that small dead space between them, making a cosy spot for her thigh right up next to Louis’s.

“This,” she comments while wrapping her fingers over Louis’s and tapping her right pointer finger on Louis’s, “is the right trigger. When you’re turning sharply, hold it, and let go right after the turn.” As she explains, Louis feels her demonstrate the actions on her sweaty, gross hands that are holding a death grip on her controllers. Her whole face feels like it could fry up an egg.

“Think I got it,” she manages to grit out between her teeth after Harry explains a fifth time.

Harry seems satisfied enough to back off, leaving a quivering mess in her wake. Louis is hit with an intense feeling of regret over her lack of underwear because she feels the wetness in between her thighs with a new kind of clarity. The goosebumps that tore up her arms eventually subside but she can feel her own slick at the tops of her inner thighs and she really is in no position for this sort of reaction to someone showing her how to play a videogame. Honestly.

There’s a pause from the group and then Niall asks, “Wait, does this mean you don’t know how to throw objects either? You weren’t the one that threw the blue shell earlier?”

She leaps on the opportunity to distract herself almost too desperately. Keeping her body facing the screen, she tilts her head and sighs in a high voice, “Objects? What are those?”

Niall leaps on her, as expected, and she goes tumbling to the ground, cackling at the fingers being jabbed into her ribcage. The issue soon becomes less about the angry Irish woman on her and more of her skirt riding up as Niall’s jabs come more frequently, so she manipulates the situation, using her thighs to flip them over and going for the kill at Niall’s armpits.

Liam ends their war with an amused, “Only one course to go, girls. C’mon.” So Louis rolls off Niall and fixes herself quickly by righting her shirt and pulling her skirt. It’s entirely possibly that she flashed the other girls while being attacked and seems almost convinced of it when she takes in Harry’s red as hell face. But something comes over her. A confidence of some sort she had lost this entire day up until this point because she is reminded that she’s only here for the rest of the day. She’s gone by the end of tonight and if she makes a complete and utter shit of herself, who cares? Louis can always make _Liam_ come visit _her_.

So, Louis plops up on the sofa right up against Harry, throws an arm around the shocked girl, and leans in to whisper, “Alright?”

“Me?” Harry scrambles, left leg kicking out and hitting Liam in the shin. “I’m fine,” she waves off Louis, literally, from her ear and Louis has to pull her arm back to actually play the game.

Mount Wario is actually pretty easy. Louis comes in third, just ahead of Harry, even with her struggling to get the drifting trick down so she’s feeling pretty good about herself. That is until she notices Liam and Niall conspiring in their corner of the sofa.

“So we,” Liam points between herself and a smirking Niall, “are going to get us all some burgers? Or something. But we need you both to stay here and get the oven ready?” she tilts her voice at the end and stares at Niall with a pleading look in her eyes.

Niall shrugs. “You know how restaurants are sometimes. Don’t cook stuff enough. We’ll be back soon,” she adds lazily and winking right at Louis.

What the fuck.

“Okay,” Harry agrees before Louis can roast them. Which.

What the fuck.

Louis watches her pathetic mates scamper out of the flat, giggling with each other like they just got away with something big. Which they sort of did because if Harry wasn’t Harry they wouldn’t have stepped foot out of this flat with that flimsy excuse. But Harry is Harry and Louis is terribly fond and can’t bring herself to make eye contact after the front door slams shut.

“Now we wait,” Harry comments, startling Louis enough to look up and watch as Harry digs her mobile from her pocket. It comes to life under her fingers. Louis idly plays with the bottom of her skirt while she tries to think of a way to approach a proper conversation.

“Erm,” she starts, wincing at how weak her voice sounds. “You from Manchester? Originally?”

Harry doesn’t even look up from her screen. “No,” her tone is curt.

And Louis is an idiot. “I think Liam mentioned you were from Holmes Chapel? Think I traveled through there once. I’m doing footie so I’ve had a few games around the country. Originally from Doncaster, meself,” she says in one breath.

“Okay,” Harry says, briefly looking up to watch Louis’s life leave her body, only to go back to tapping at her mobile.

Not quite that dramatic in all honesty. Louis just feels herself deflate a bit and then puff up because what the fuck? She refuses to have a one sided conversation with a pretty girl who may or may not have peeked underneath her skirt.

“What is your deal?” she demands without thinking and receives Harry Styles’s fullest attention. Which only spurs her on. “Every time I talk to Liam she's gushing about her amazing flatmate who listens to her when she has school stress and cuddles her when her long time girlfriend leaves without a look back. I can’t get through a conversation with Niall without hearing about something terribly funny you’ve said or done. Do you understand how significant it is for me to have to hear from two of my closest mates in my life all these wonderful things about your gorgeous self only to get the cold shoulder when I actually get the opportunity to meet you?” Harry looks shocked and confused and Louis’s anger is quickly shifting into humiliation. But she barrels with a final, “What did I ever do to you?”

Harry’s hair has dried a bit since she put it up so when she tilts her head, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation and mouth open to answer Louis’s accusation, a little ringlet falls and plops up right against her temple. Within that time Louis decides that she doesn’t want to hear what Harry has to say. She has a startling amount of self confidence but Louis doesn’t need more reasons to hate herself when she’s alone with her thoughts. So she’s up and out of the room, running down the corridor and through the first open door. She slams it and locks it quickly before realising she is, in fact, in Harry’s own bedroom.

She does what anyone would do in this situation and throws herself into Harry’s bed.

It takes a few moments, but the doorknob jiggles followed by a tentative knock on the door. “Lou?” Harry’s muffled voice vibrates into the room making Louis dig herself underneath Harry’s bed covers.

“Not here at the moment!” Louis yells unthinkingly back.

There’s a sigh and then a soft. “I don’t hate you, Louis. Please open the door.”

“You can’t stand me,” Louis replies stubbornly and wiggles a bit, adrenaline still coursing through her body. She buries her head into Harry’s pillow, the top corner of her head hitting some hard. She wiggles some more in pain, but keeps her whimpering to herself. No wonder Harry slept on the ground.

There’s more knocking and pleads for Louis to listen to Harry but eventually, the girl gives up and Louis listens to her footsteps echo away from the door. Louis sighs to herself. She’s fucked. There’s no way she can come out of this not looking completely and utterly immature. She bangs her head against the pillow, forehead hitting the object a second time, making her pause. There are only a few objects that Louis can think of that people stick into their own pillowcases and all of them are very personal.

Fuck it. Louis sticks her hand in and pulls out a [curved, blue dildo with a rounded handle](https://www.feeldoe.com/feeldoe_toys.html). She’s a massive, massive idiot. What did she think she was going to find? A bible?

Harry must have returned while she was distracted because the doorknob jiggles some more, Louis panics, and sits on the dildo. She feels the hard plastic rub right up against her skirt and she is going to die. When the door opens, Harry is holding a key and looking very frazzled but seems very shocked by the fact that Louis is on her bed and clutching her dildo-carrying pillow against her chest with one arm. Louis’s other arm, of course, still holding the dildo she is sitting on. So, Louis panics. Again. She throws the dildo in Harry’s direction and throws herself on the floor only to crawl right under the bed. Judging by the way Harry shrieks, she hit her target.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Harry whimpers.

Louis doesn’t know what to do anymore. “I’m sorry! I didn’t meant to find it, my head whacked it and―”

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” Harry continues sounding more and more distressed.

Louis peeks her head out to see Harry cradling the dildo between two hands and head tilted into both of them. Like she is saying a pray with the dildo.

“I promise to forget all about it. Please relax, it’s just a dildo,” Louis begs.

At the mention of the word dildo, Harry jolts from her prayer and throws the thing across the room. It hits the mirror hanging on the closet door and falls on top of a pile of clothes. Louis struggles to hold her laughter in because she’s never seen someone so scared of their own dildo before.

“Please leave,” Harry begs, hands covering her face.

Louis gets up to do just that only a door slams in the flat and they share a look of terror before Harry swiftly turns around, shuts her door, locks it, and flops herself onto her bed. She’s already under the covers when Louis reaches her so she, well, goes over to the dildo, picks it up, and hides it back in its original pillow place.

“Erm, I put it back please don’t hate me,” she whispers to Harry.

A distressed wave of a hand is her response, so Louis tentatively crawls across the mattress to lay right next to the girl who may or may not hate her but is most definitely terrified of fake penises. The bed squeaks a bit surprising Louis into shock still.

“Where’d they go?” Niall’s booming voice echoes into their room.

“Probably off to go snog, I can’t believe the foreplay I witnessed today,” Liam replies, but cuts herself off. A quiet moment passes and then, “Nah, never mind. Harry’s bedframe is so wobbly, we’d hear it if they were sucking face. I keep asking her to fix the bloody thing but―”

“How about a rematch? They’ll be back in a mo’, I reckon? Probably went off to snog in a romantic place or something,” Niall’s much louder voice causes Louis to wince.

The distinct sound of Mario Kart goes off and Louis relaxes. For the most part, the bed seems very sturdy so Louis trusts it enough to crawl on her fours to Harry and settle herself there for a nice chat about putting strangers in uncomfortable positions.

“ _Iwasn’treadytofacethemsoIwasn’tthinkingI’msosorry_ ,” Harry whispers in one breath. She’s spread out chest to mattress, face mostly buried into her arms and pillow.

Louis’s prior confusion slash irritation dissipates. Instead she pats Harry’s head and cuddles further into the mattress underneath her. Looks like they’re in for a wait and that definitely makes her cringe.

“You’re allowed to hate me now,” she concedes and watches the way Harry’s back moves up and down with every breath she takes.

Her face still turned away, Harry replies, “Thanks for your permission.”

Feeling fidgety and absolutely terrible about herself, Louis squirms in her position, trying to get more comfortable. She doesn’t bother to fix her skirt which has ridden up, instead she places a hand on Harry’s arm and rubs what she hopes to be reassuring circles. The action triggers Harry into shifting so that she can look at Louis.

“Hello,” Louis greets jokingly.

Harry’s unimpressed glare lightens a fraction. It’s motivating enough for Louis to smile and say, “That’s a very pretty dildo. I like smaller, vibrating things for myself.”

It wasn’t the smartest thing to say because Harry starts to turn away again, face red as hell. So Louis rushes to clarify, “You know you don’t have to be embarrassed, right? Everyone has their thing. I bought Liam a vibrator for her birthday this year.”

“I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with you,” Harry snaps.

Louis winces and is instantly reminded that, oh yeah, Harry hates her. Her chest hurts and she rolls to her back. The ceiling of the room is high but she doesn’t have to strain her eyes to follow cracks. After a while, she studies the dome shaped light fixture instead and listens Harry’s breathing as she contemplates how many nights, exactly, she is going to stay awake remembering each and every embarrassing detail of this day. She estimates a lot so far. It doesn’t help make her feel better about this whole thing.

A sigh brings Louis’s attention to Harry. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she seems to have been staring at Louis for a bit of time.

“Why do you think I hate you?” she asks, causing Louis to blink to herself.

She chuckles a bit until she realises that Harry is asking seriously. “Wait, you mean that seriously?” At Harry’s nod, she continues, “Well, you can hardly hold a conversation with me without being short or rude, for starters. Not to mention you’re absolutely repulsed by me.”

A glance at Harry’s face shows complete bewilderment. “What do you mean by repulsed?” she asks.

Louis can’t help but laugh. “You move away whenever I sit next to you or you’ve always kept on the other side of the room,” she clarifies.

“We sat next to each other today,” Harry argues.

“You kept shifting away,” Louis accuses and feels a bit giddy by the guilty look Harry gives her in return.

The feeling is short lived, however, because Harry doesn’t deem it necessary to explain her actions and she doesn’t seem to feel the need to apologise either. She just goes quiet, tilting away again from Louis so she is looking at the door, she’s now spread with her back flat against her mattress just like Louis. They are positioned similarly now. Louis staring at Harry who is staring at the door.

She’s gorgeous, is the thing. Louis would have to be insane not to notice it, especially so close as to count the freckles on her neck. It’s pink. The only evidence of her prior humiliation. Having given up on subtle, Louis stares at the edges of her cheekbones. Moves her eyes along each centimeter of the girl next to her.

Instantly she wonders what her life would be like if Harry didn’t despise her. How they’d interact. Would they banter? Flirt? Could she steal a belly laugh out of her like Niall seems to do so easily? Various other similar thoughts keep Louis humbled. A faint aching feeling in the back of her throat and chest.

“Your skirt has…” Harry’s voice breaks her from her thoughts and Louis goes to fix her skirt at once, her face feeling hot.

“Right, sorry about that,” she laughs lightly.

Harry shrugs. “It’s quite alright, honestly. Although…” she breaths in a deep breath and looks up at Louis’s face. “Erm, Are you not wearing any…?”

Louis flushes. “I don’t have any―”

“You really don’t have to explain yourself to me, I was just―”

“What was cleaned were granny knickers. Literally, my granny bought me some―"

Harry looks entirely scandalised. "Louis, really you don't owe me―"

Louis covers Harry’s mouth in a panicked split second decision, needing to clarify her lack of undergarments.  "―and the knickers were fuchsia which would have been mortifying if anyone saw," she concludes and apologetically takes her hand off Harry's mouth.

The next thing Louis knows, she's being kissed. By Harry Styles. The lips are gone as quickly as they came and she is shocked.

Harry's explanation is, "I can't believe you chose to go without knickers because you were worried someone would see your fuchsia granny knickers."

Well, Louis doesn’t stop to think and rolls over on top of Harry, chest to chest, and seals their lips another time by cupping Harry's cheeks in her hands. Harry goes pliant underneath her, allowing kisses to be exchanged and holding Louis close by grasping Louis's arms to her chest.

Louis pulls back to looks at Harry again, maybe to talk about what is going on only to have lips chase her and it's so cute and frankly just pleasing to her confidence. Louis decidedly leans down and kisses Harry more firmly. She sucks Harry's plump bottom lip in between hers and tastes the salty crisp right off them with a swipe of her tongue.

Harry's back arches underneath her and god, it's so hot. It's all so hot and she really wishes she was wearing underwear at this moment. Conscious of the wetness forming in between her thighs, Louis rolls onto her back and pulls Harry with her so that they've switched positions. Hoping that gravity will help in keeping her wetness to herself.

“Shit,” Harry curses, looking down at Louis. She pushes Louis’s chest so she can’t lean up for anymore kisses and adds, “Fuck,” to the silence.

“Kiss me,” Louis demands and is surprised when Harry gives in, allowing Louis to push her tongue in and chase her sweet taste.

A whimper leaves Harry’s lips when Louis nudges her thigh in between hers so that Harry can grind down on it and wow, shit okay. Louis has Harry Styles grinding against her thigh and bitey kisses being whispered onto her neck. She allows a few more bites before hissing and shoving her hands into Harry’s trousers and knickers to grab onto the fleshy bits of her arse. She uses the leverage to pull Harry against her even harder.

“Louis, please,” Harry whimpers above her and Louis wants to fuck her with her tongue until she’s screaming that. She makes due with kneading her arse and licking teasingly against Harry’s neck.

The bed squeaks a few times with Harry’s grinding and it reminds Louis of where she is. Of who she is and who she is snogging, practically humping. It’s enough of a shock, she drops her hold and pulls away only to hit her head against the hard part of Harry’s pillow. Which. While Harry whines and continues to use her thigh to get off, Louis reaches behind her and pulls a familiar toy out from the pillow.

Harry opens her eyes moans when she sees the toy in Louis’s hands, diving forward and whining against Louis’s mouth. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chants, legs shaking from her grinding efforts.

Her throat has dried down and it takes a couple of swallows before Louis is confident enough with her voice to speak. “Do you wash it regularly?” she wonders.

Harry looks pained, but stops moving altogether. She pulls back and settles gently on Louis’s legs. A deep calming breath is pulled from the girl as she fans at her face and regards Louis a bit before nodding at the dildo Louis is clutching in a fist.

“I clean it every time I use it and do a sort of deep clean about once or twice a month,” she details seriously. “The last time I used it, I deep cleaned it and I haven’t touched it since.”

Nodding, Louis traces the smooth plastic with a finger and feels an uneasiness settle in her chest. Luckily, Harry leans down and pulls the toy away before she tilts Louis’s face up and pecks a kiss straight on her lips.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Harry asks and.

Jesus.

A few more kisses have her melting into the mattress while Harry messes around where she can’t see. The bed groans a bit when she pulls away to finish taking off her trousers and pants and Louis suddenly has a view of Harry’s carefully sculpted pubic hair. She leans up against her elbows, arms already too shaky to hold her own weight, and tugs playfully at the buttons of Harry’s blouse until she gets the message to take it off too.

Sighing, Harry rocks her now naked crotch up against Louis’s thigh again. She goes slowly, her eyes shut and a small smile present on her lips that makes Louis feel even more comfortable. The atmosphere feels less hectic and rushed now that their spontaneous urges have smoothed into a deep, pulsing and mutual wanting.

“Want to be fucked,” she clarifies to ease any questions that Harry might have had. The obvious wetness from Harry being rubbed onto her own thighs is making her feel powerful and confident. “Want you to fuck me,” she adds, leaning up again and running the pads of her fingers gently down the stretch of Harry’s lengthy back.

Harry hums and opens her eyes, smile firm. Her hands ruck up Louis’s top until the fabric is gathered around her armpits and her bra is the only thing covering her chest and places her hot, wet mouth right on top of her right nipple. The fabric is coated in saliva and Louis can feel firm movements of tongue twisting around the bud of her nipple. The same treatment is felt on her other breast and Louis cover her own mouth with her hand to keep herself quiet. Even as the bed frame underneath them squeals with their combined movements.

Finally Harry pulls her bra down to uncover her hardened breasts and plays with her right while tonguing her left firmly in between her lips. The feeling is so intense that Louis can’t catch her breath and the air leaves her in quick pants. Fortunately, Harry shushes her with calm whisperings and soothes a hand down her sternum until the dizziness in her head goes away and she’s pulling Harry’s face up by the hair on her scalp.

“I’m going to fuck you just like this,” Harry mutters against her lips. “Ruin your clothes,” she emphasises by fisting the fabric of her skirt by her hips.

Louis agrees with a, “Please,” and pushes at Harry’s shoulders to get her moving.

She moves slowly, nibbling her way down to Louis’s stomach and tonguing cheekily at her belly button. Every time Louis tries to push for more, Harry stops entirely and waits for Louis to momentarily give up. Her entire surface of her skin feels on fire. Especially the parts that Harry has left marks. But she’s been trained to stay calm. Take what Harry gives her. The sort of punishment she’s always wanted from a partner but now resents entirely.

“You need to be quiet,” Harry’s voice calls from her ankles where she is massaging the arch of her foot and placing little kisses on the pointed bones. “Unless you want your childhood friends to hear you.”

Louis shuts her mouth, only now realizing that she was making quite a ruckus, but squirms enough that Harry stops and waits again. “Please,” Louis begs knowing it won’t help anything.

Harry climbs over and lines herself up with Louis. “Please what?” she teases with a happy hum when she is in a good enough position to rock against Louis. A position that does fuck all for Louis but enough for Harry judging by her blissed out expression. “Please make you scream loud enough for them to hear? Dirty.”

Uselessly, Louis tries moving herself to get /something/ but her arms get pushed up above her head almost instantly. She falls pliant.

“Do I need to tie you up?” Harry questions, squeezing at Louis’s wrists. “Gag you?” she adds removing a hand from her wrist to place it gently over Louis’s mouth. And then she pulls away altogether leaving Louis feeling too cold without the heat of her.

When she looks, Louis finds the girl at the wardrobe across the room, searching through the drawers with one hand and the other fingering herself with quick, deep movements. The image is pleasing and makes Louis wet her lips while settling back into the sweat coated sheets. A bottle of lube and a packaged condom both hit Louis as a prelude to Harry dumping herself right up against her body again. The bed creaks the loudest yet and both girls wince.

“Sorry,” Harry apologises, not looking sorry at all, “had to get supplies.”

She scrambles up the bed until her knees are caging Louis’s midriff and then she goes back to fingering herself. Her eyes drift all across Louis’s face and breasts, taking in the sight while effectively plunging two long fingers in and out of herself.

Teasingly, Louis wets her mouth before making a show of licking her lips. She gets them coated and then some in her saliva. Makes them glisten and watches how transfixed Harry looks by them before asking, “You need me to warm you up, baby?” In her favourite soft, sex voice.

Blinking, Harry nods and pushes her two fingers into Louis’s mouth. They taste salty, warm, and absolutely bitter sweet. A similar sort of tanginess a bite of dark chocolate would leave on her tongue and Louis laps them up. Makes them so wet and twists her tongue up, down, and everywhere in between until Harry physically shivers and removes them from her mouth.

“Let me help you,” Louis suggests simply because she knows begging doesn’t work. Her whole worked up and bitten body is proof of that much.

Harry tilts her head, deciding before she smiles lazily and shifts up the squeaking bed to straddle Louis’s shoulders. “No touching,” she warns before she lets herself settle on Louis’s waiting mouth.

Louis makes the most of it because she knows this is something she’s good at. Knows that Harry will walk away satisfied if she can just get her tongue on her. So she laps up, teases the lips of Harry’s dark pink pussy before pointing her tongue against the tops of the folds and licks. Sucks at the sensitive clitoris affectionately before introducing her lips into the mix. Firm and soft touches upwards that are controlled easily by the rise and fall of Harry’s hips. Louis can hear harsh breaths and can feel the tremors but it’s not enough. She’s good at this and she needs to feel every bit of how worked up she’s getting Harry. Instinctively, she grasps Harry’s hips and feels the shivers in them before pulling her harshly down against her mouth.

As soon as it’s done, Harry’s out of her reach. A wicked smile on her lips. The only real sign that Louis did anything for her is how splotched her face has become and the faint reminder of the tremors she felt on her fingertips and lips. So yeah, she’s frustrated as she watches Harry smoothly redo her messy bun into something neat in a calm, lazy manner.

“What do you want?” she demands feeling crazy with it.

Harry shrugs, reaching up and wiping Louis’s lips with a finger that she brings to her own mouth to suck on lightly. “To fuck you. Ruin you. I thought I already mentioned that?” she comments with a sinister smile before bending over and grabbing The Dildo. “Think we’re ready to do just that,” she adds in such a way that Louis knows she could contradict easily.

She doesn’t.

Instead Louis watches Harry gently prod her opening with the lubed bulbed end of her toy, leaving the curved penis-like silicone plastic to jut out of her vagina, ready to use.

She doesn’t use it.

Harry sits up on her knees and moves a bit, fixing the fit of her end of the toy so that it pushes comfortably inside her. She grabs and rips open the condom wrapper, easily pulling the thin material down and spreading lube on liberally. When she’s finished she moves up and spreads Louis’s legs open, flipping up her skirt and revealing the last of her modesty for her pleasure.

Harry seems quite pleased.

“You’ve got some red in your hair,” she comments lightly. Almost comedic against how intense everything feels right now.

She runs her fingers up and down Louis’s lips, gathering the wetness, and fingering shallowly into her opening. Throughout it all, Louis remains quiet and takes it all. She wouldn’t put it past Harry to stop altogether because she starts begging. However, this approach doesn’t seem to be what Harry is wanting because the younger girl sighs and pulls up to kiss Louis deeply, fucking her tongue gently against Louis's tongue.

"You want it?" she asks and teasingly rolls her hips so the toy grazes Louis where she definitely wants it to be buried.

Louis nods her head and pushes out a shaky breath so she doesn't squirm or whine too much.

Harry smiles, tilting her head a bit to nudge her nose against Louis's. "I don't think I understand. Do. You. Want. It," she inquires again, rolling her hips at the pauses of her sentence and making Louis arch her back to keep herself sane.

"Yes," she says, voice high and weak.

Harry hums and pulls back. "Prove it," she says and. Louis doesn't know what Harry wants but she knows exactly what she wants for herself.

She musters all her strength in her arms and legs to rolls Harry unto her back and looks at the beautiful girl below her before seating herself on the dildo. It takes a few tries and Louis winces at the stretch when she goes too fast and has to take a moment before taking as much as she can. She’s so shaky on her limbs that Louis knows she won’t be able to keep this up for very long and doesn’t even get the chance to make that decision because Harry pushes up and helps Louis fall unto her back. She waits a few moments and tentatively grinds the toy back and forth, obviously feeling the movement on her end going by the way her eyes roll up.

“Harry, Harry I need you to fuck me please,” Louis says and digs her heels into the girl’s back, feeling the delicate muscles clench underneath them.

Harry hums a moan out and looks down. “You need me to fuck you?” she rephrases Louis’s plea with a dirty grind of her hips that have both girls shuddering. “Look at your skirt, Lou,” she comments and begins a movement of shallow thrusts that test the boundaries of their comforts. “Look at how messy you made it. You won’t be able to wear it again without remembering how much you begged me to touch you.”

Harry lengthened the thrusts, keeping them slow and careful. It’s so intense. Louis grips what she can of the bed spread around her and throws her head back. “You ruined it,” she groans out, loud enough for Harry to hear.

“I ruined you,” Harry corrects easily, increasing her speed and letting out soft noises of pleasure with each roll of her hips. “You ruined your skirt.”

A pleasant twist of her hips makes everything elevate to a new level of pleasure and Louis feels it everywhere. “Oh, Harry. Give it to me, come on,” she begs.

“Say my name again,” Harry demands, her voice pitched higher and her hips moving faster.

Louis does just that, she keeps a steady chanting of Harry’s name until they reach a stroke that is too right and too perfect that it has her blabbering out nonsense loudly and quite passionately all while the bedframe squeaks and hits the wall.

“That’s good, that’s so good. Sogoodsogoodsogood. Right there, come on. Yes, yes Harry―”

Harry muffles the noises with her lips and breathes harshly into her mouth before muttering, “I’m almost there, Lou,” and pulling Louis’s hips up to an angle that has Louis squirming and. It’s so good.

Louis lasts a good four more strokes before she’s crying out and arching up into Harry’s waiting arms with a choked off moan. Harry mutters an onslaught of compliments, keeping a firm hold on Louis’s orgasm pliant body and finishing herself with a few more thrusts.

“Oh my god,” Harry says loudly, facing the ceiling. She’s quick to remove the toy from Louis and herself, shivering from sensitivity and curling forward for a bit. “That was fantastic. You’re amazing,” she adds. The compliments are muffled from where her face is firmly planted into her bed spread.

“I can’t feel my toes,” Louis replies but sits up to run a hand through the tendrils of curls that have left Harry’s bun. She decides to use the energy and crawls over to where Harry is, folding herself against the girl’s back, and nudging her nose into the back of her neck. Her sweat is sweet.

Eventually, Harry calms her heart enough to turn around and place delicates kisses all over Louis’s face until she has the girl giggling out loudly. “Let me take you out next time you’re in town,” she asks softly, allowing Louis to decline by the tone of her voice.

“I suppose now that you don’t hate me, I wouldn’t mind,” Louis teases, searching Harry’s face and finding relief in the eyeroll her comment receives.

“You’re intimidating, attractive, and funny. It was easier to ignore you then to impress you. And it was a bit...too late to stop once I felt confident to try. Erm―”

Louis shuts her up with a kiss and then winces.

“There’s no way Liam and Niall didn’t hear all of that, is there?”

Harry leans up and wiggles her body, causing the bed to croak out in a pointed manner.

“That’s why I sleep on the floor,” Harry answers with a shrug.

Louis shushes and then curls further into her warmth. Right, well that’s an issue that can be dealt with after a nap.

**Author's Note:**

> >:)
> 
> This kind of combined my idea of exhibitionism but not really. So my next smut fic will probably be an exhibitionist one.


End file.
